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[indent][sub][color=#B9BABC]N E X U S  R E A C T O R.[/color] // [color=b1aba6][i]June 6.[/i][/color] // [color=#B9BABC]W i t h i n  t h e R u i n s.[/color][/sub][/indent][hr]
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[indent][i]Fuck, shit, dammit![/i]

Years and routines, constant practice and perfection saw to the lack of awe and shock to illustrate across ebony pools and features of gentry, but within was a cesspool of ill luck, circumstance, and a terrible desire to grind his teeth into a blood addled mess of bone and skin; reaping down into his gums to still the bubbling frustration and fury of some [i]bitch[/i] blind siding them like battle newborns. How she managed to slip within the Nexus Reactor and come upon with stealth and agility was a matter to be addressed later, Ollie's eyes flickered and swarmed, the pitch of his spirits staining his gaze to an adulterated swarm of ink that glared daggers of suspicion at the woman, simply Army sniper that she was, who had vocally addressed their assaulter and had the gall to banter, no matter how fleeting it was.

	[color=b1aba6]"Had a nice, fucking chat?"[/color] He hissed, Ollie's shell splintering just enough to permit his fury, the groan of his spirits combating against the sudden phalanx of Hell erupting from the shadow, heralded by the stun grenade and screech of whatever had been following them previously. Still feeling the ring of the explosion coil around in his head, the previous elation he had felt at the prospect of The Hunt had bled out into this disruption and he felt the unraveling woe at potentially failing his own objective. Ollie refused, with stalwart conviction and determination ironing and back-boning his denial, he wouldn't allow this temporary lapse to completely squander his opportunities and obligations. With a bestial snarl, he grasped Jaina, hoisted her close with black peering in close to her face as he spat out with venom akin to a serpentine predator. [color=b1aba6]"If we fail this, I'll make your life Hell, Soldier. You will submit to questioning later."[/color]

He released the sniper with a sneer, lip curling, the factual evidence of Ollie's true nature gleaming from the perpetual gloom that was his soul. Laced with taint, ebony disease and malice, all of these warping his countenance into the monster that was lain dormant in his being. It was a glimpse to what he smoothed and laid to rest daily, but in the dark, in the thick of threat and Mordrem terror, it was heralded as a King. His spirits sired on sounds of vibrating intonations, the trembling timbre pitched so low that it quaked across the cat walks in the extraterrestrial drone that forced them affront in jagged edges, sharp fissures forming over his armour with nebulous scarlet tones outlining each of the formed splinters. Ollie's gestures formed into a fist, immediately firing Guntar bullets at the Mordrem surrounding them, screeches wailing in pursuit of each hit sanctioned from his rigid stance. His opposite hand fell over his forearm, gripping tight as Guntar's harsh succession pinpointed his nerves in flares of roaring strain. He backed up further on the catwalk, firing away, impaling the enemy with precision that would not falter or wane.

	[color=b1aba6]"Now, seriously, get the fuck going!"[/color] Ollie roared over the drone of his spirits, knowing that in the swell of their Mordrem foes was the true beast slithering in wait, preparing to take them down one by one. Even if they split up, Ollie would still manage to reach the breakers, he would see this through, he would not fail Julian and his objective, no matter how sinister his intentions. He had a mission, he had a plan, he had an [i]obligation.[/i] And he would make that bitch pay, pray to whichever sired lord or deity reined, that he would never see her again.[/indent][hr]